for you, as you said. You’ve got a houseful of Aloysiuses and Timothys and Williams all skulking about under false names.”
“There can’t be more than one Aloysius.”
“Perhaps not, but would it be too much trouble to learn the men’s given names? Never mind. I guess it would. There are so damn many footmen here I suppose it’s convenient to holler ‘John’ and know for sure someone will turn up. What the devil is that?”
They had come to a stone sarcophagus. A rather short knight lay in repose, his sword at his side and a dog of indeterminate parentage at his feet.
“That’s the first Earl of Kelby. Don’t worry, he’s not inside. He’s buried somewhere in the Holy Land.”
“How lucky for you. I would hate to worry that every time a bulb was planted the gardeners might unearth a dead relative.” Reyn was diverting her, something he was very good at. It was impossible to feel too melancholy in his presence.
Was he right? Should she forgive herself for her stupidity? It had been five long years of scourging herself. Diminishing her pleasure in ordinary things. Feeling inadequate and unworthy. By God, she’d been frightfully boring, even to herself. Henry had not noticed, of course, but she hadn’t felt a spark of emotion in years.
Except for her anger at Captain Reynold Durant when he refused to keep his word. He still made her feel something, but it wasn’t anger.
If she could find the courage to tell Henry the truth, then David’s incessant requests for money would be moot. She didn’t believe he wouldn’t try for more despite what she’d said to him. Something had snapped when she’d tossed him the coin purse. But she wasn’t naïve enough to believe he’d stop importuning her for more money, because eventually he’d figure out she’d been bluffing.
She’d been brave today. And cold. Maris had found words she didn’t even know she possessed. Could she find more words to tell Henry?
Chapter 16
Reyn was jealous. He shouldn’t be, but there it was. He hadn’t shown his irritation to Maris, for what good would that have done her, blubbering on the bench like her dog had died? Speaking of dogs, how could she have fallen victim to a cur like David Kelby?
Well, he’d explained it to her himself. It didn’t make it any easier to swallow, however. He wasn’t angry at her, but for her. She really was such an innocent for all her scholarly knowledge.
She had been a twenty-nine-year-old virgin until her misguided affair with her husband’s nephew. It was sad, yet somehow touching. The poor woman had never enjoyed what should have been her right by marriage. The elderly Earl of Kelby may have been hopeful when he placed that large diamond on his young wife’s finger, but must have known his limitations.
She’d had five years of companionship and affection without intercourse. That may have been enough for some women. Maris had probably convinced herself it was enough for her until the snake slithered into the garden and into her.
Reyn was a firm believer that women deserved as much satisfaction in bed as their partners, but apparently David Kelby did not share a similar generous impulse.
Benefitting from her innocence—her wonder and eagerness were precious—was Reyn’s alone. No other man had seen her flame, not even her husband, so Reyn would have to be content with that. In all the ways that counted, he was Maris’s first lover.
It was rather daunting. Reyn felt a responsibility, as if he carried a banner to uphold all male honor.
Instinctively, he knew Maris would never engage in another love affair. If they were successful, he was sure she’d devote the rest of her life to their child. That would be a shame, really. She’d already sacrificed her youth to her elderly husband and her aspirations to an unworthy partner. She would never make time for her needs. No wonder she was so highly strung.
At least she wasn’t crying any longer. Their walk around the garden was almost normal. She did indeed describe the stone objects at the center of every garden room. Reyn was conscious that despite the brick walls and clipped hedges, their movements were visible from the upper stories of the house. He had spotted her from the attic window—a forlorn figure headed as far away from Kelby Hall as possible. They would have to be more circumspect than ever.
She couldn’t outrun her past, just make peace with it. He listened with half an ear as they went through